


Distaffs

by silvergryphon



Series: Black and Gold Verse [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Clones, Gen, Naroko just adopts people, OCs - Freeform, People, and now she has five new children, not pathetic life forms, she is Team Mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 15:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10969902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvergryphon/pseuds/silvergryphon
Summary: Jedi not assigned purely to the Temple or doing specific assignments are expected to have at least a few clones under their command. Naroko and Ayliah visit Kamino to pick out a squad.Takes place around Chapter 6 of Over the Years and about a year before Chapter 6 of Growth





	Distaffs

"Master, why must rain always be so _cold_?"

Naroko glanced back at her Padawan. Both Jedi had gotten soaked to the skin simply walking from their ship to the doorway that would lead into Tipoca City. Ayliah looked particularly bedraggled, with fat drops of water dripping off her nose and the ends of her lekku.

"Do you prefer the technical answer or the one that will let you indulge yourself wallowing in your physical misery?" she asked with a wry smile. "It's just water, dear one."

"There's so _much_ of it."

"And you're only going to get wetter the longer you stay out here." Resting a hand on the young Twi'lek's shoulder, she steered her inside. Whereas outside had been nothing but blue and grey, the interior of Tipoca City was blindingly white, almost painful after the stormy gloom they'd just left. Naroko almost had to squint against it.

_I wonder- do Kaminoans see in the ultraviolet range? And if so, what does all this 'white' look like to them?_

It was an idle thought, and one she let drift on past as she unpinned her braided hair, wrung the worst of the water from it, and pinned it back up again. She was considering doing the same with her robe- the cursed thing got terribly heavy when wet- when they were approached by one of the tall, graceful Kaminoans.

"Master Jedi," the alien said, inclining her head on its long neck and politely ignoring the puddles the two Jedi were leaving on the floor. "Welcome to Kamino." Each word was slow and graceful, much like her movements. "I am Taun We. You are here to choose a squad of clones, I am told?"

Naroko nodded, offering the slender creature a slight bow of her own. "That is correct. I am Jedi Knight Naroko Chiston, and this is my apprentice Ayliah." Behind her and just to her left, she saw Ayliah bow as well. "Were you informed of my particular requirements?"

"I am afraid not, though surely Jedi Master Shaak Ti is aware of them."

"She ought to be." Naroko stuck the last pin back into her hair and moved to follow Taun We. "My Padawan and I are healers, first and foremost, and we expect to see little in the way of front-line action. Most of what we are likely to be doing is working in the Jedi Temple's infirmary, making tours of medical frigates and bases, or helping to set up refugee camps. We're really just in need of assistants and escorts, not entire legions of troops. Which is good, since that will free up more units to serve with Jedi who are on the front line."

She thought for a moment of Obi-Wan and Anakin, who were serving on the front line almost constantly. Obi-Wan had more troops at his disposal than she would know what to do with, and he _needed_ them. It was a good thing that the clones were loyal, and prone to be fond of their Jedi. Already she'd heard too many stories from Anakin about how he and Obi-Wan's troops had needed to go get Obi-Wan out of some sort of trouble or another.

"We will of course seek to provide you with the best units possible," Taun We said. The Kaminoan, who stood easily forty centimeters taller than Naroko herself, took care to keep her long strides slow so as not to outpace the two Jedi. The effect was quite ethereal, really, reminiscent of an elegant, long-legged cervine. "There are some in the training halls now, if you would care to inspect them."

"I would very much like to see them in action." She offered the Kaminoan a pleasant smile. All the while she tried to get a read on what the alien was feeling. That was- disorienting, to say the least. Kaminoan emotions were different enough from human ones to be rather confusing. Basic emotions tended to be fairly consistent across species. Generally speaking, anything with a brain sophisticated enough to permit sentience tended to at least feel that basic array- fear, anger, joy, sadness, and disgust. The more nuanced shades of emotion tended to vary more in how they came across, and therefore could be more difficult to read. Taun We was calm and unruffled right now, with very little in the way of emotional detail coloring her presence in the Force. There was a bare hint of something like displeasure, or perhaps regret, that seemed to be centered on her and her Padawan.

 _Probably disappointed that I'm only here for one squad_ , she thought. _They're supposed to be very proud of their work and products._ Naroko found the idea of thinking of the clone soldiers as mere 'products', mass-produced and held to strict standards of quality control, quite distasteful. But that was plainly how the Kaminoans viewed their creations. Like any creator proud of their product, they would want a buyer to take as much of it as possible.

Behind her, Ayliah muttered to herself, the sound just audible over the squishing sound her wet clothes made and the squeak of wet soles on polished tile.

<They could at least offer us towels,> came her Padawan's mental voice. <Do they just enjoy feeling superior because they're dry and tidy while all their guests come in looking like drowned rodents?>

Naroko allowed a smile to curl her lips. <I wonder that myself,> she told Ayliah. <Remember. Jedi carry themselves with dignity, even when soaked to the skin.>

<I'd like to see Master Yoda look dignified this soggy.>

She bit back a laugh, but sent Ayliah the feeling of her mirth. She could picture Yoda now, with water dripping off his ears and everything. Her amusement seemed to ease some of Ayliah's discontent, and the Twi'lek girl straightened and tugged her clothing into a somewhat tidier arrangement.

She just hoped some little cleaner droid would be along to deal with the trail of puddles they were leaving in their wakes. Before someone slipped on them.

Taun We led them down a long complex of corridors. They were all the same blinding white tile with tall rounded doors and accents of stark black, quite easy to get lost in. Then she turned, led them through a door, and-

They were in a raised catwalk enclosed by transparisteel on all sides. Outside were banks and banks of machines and racks of pill-shaped transparisteel tubes, each one bathed in a soft blue glow. Naroko paused, staring at the banks. The Force here _hummed_. It wasn't the chorus she usually sensed from large groups of living beings, all playing their own unique tones. This was more as if hundreds, thousands of instruments were all playing a single endless note, a perfect harmony that was almost as uncanny as it was synchronized.

Ayliah paused as well, her eyes wide in the same awe Naroko felt. "Master," she whispered, pointing to the nearest bank of tubes. "Look."

Inside each tube floated a human fetus, in varying states of development. The ones nearest to this part of the catwalk looked nearly grown, nearly ready for birth.

 _Do they call it birth here?_ she wondered. _Somehow I don't think so. So many races attach so much meaning to the idea of birth. It's a core concept of identity, of being a living person. The Kaminoans don't really look on the clones like real people. They probably have some other term for what happens to the clones when they're finished developing in-vitro. Decanting, or something like it._

Was that a benefit, or a drawback? An advantage, or a way of keeping a leash on their ability to develop an identity?

"This is the growth chamber?" she asked their guide.

Taun We had paused when she noticed the two Jedi were no longer with her, and turned to look back at them. Her eyes, huge and black with irises that looked like stellar clouds, gave no sign of what she was feeling. "This is," she replied. "There are fifty thousand units being incubated in this chamber now, and they will be fully developed within the next ten weeks."

Fifty thousand. Naroko shivered and looked out at the vast chamber again. Fifty thousand clones. Fifty thousand new soldiers for the Republic, bred to fight and die in a war that already seemed like it was never going to end.

She listened a moment longer to that chorus of identical notes, then followed their guide once more.

From the growth chamber they passed into another chamber, where hundreds of boys sat at rows of desks, doing lessons at computer terminals. They were almost as identical as their still-incubating younger brothers, with dusky skin and dark hair cut short and dark eyes narrowed in concentration, each one wearing identical red uniforms only distinguished by patches and other markers on their shoulders and chests. They looked to be eight or nine years old, which told Naroko that they were in fact closer to four years of age. The Force hummed here too. Here, though, she caught more nuances. Not all the notes she heard here were identical. They were similar, in closely-related chords that still clustered around that single defining tone, but at least there was some variation now.

That felt better. More natural.

They passed the pre-adolescent clones and over a long mess hall filled with young adults sitting to meals. Again, with the older clones Naroko sensed more variation around them, until the chorus in the Force sounded more like a single voice that had been looped as it sang different notes, strong and harmonious.

Finally they were brought along another series of passages and to a room that overlooked a large training hall. A pair of bounty hunters and a Kaminoan watched as a group of five clones ran through an exercise. The room's floors and walls were lined with large blocks that could be extended or retracted, allowing the simulation's overseers to change terrain and cover and general layout.

Naroko came over to the viewing window, peering down at the squad as they performed their exercise. The quintet of clones below seemed to work well with one another, clearly following the leadership of the one who'd been appointed as in charge. Their aim was quick and precise, and they knocked out the training droids with little apparent difficulty. But there was something about their physical movements that caught her attention, nagging at her even if she couldn't quite put a finger on why.

"Who am I watching, here?" she asked, turning to the bounty hunters. They watched her, and she felt a sudden spike of unease radiating off them, strong enough that even Ayliah raised a brow at them.

It was the Kaminoan, a shorter, stockier individual than Taun We, who spoke. "This is Distaff Squad," she said, her ethereal voice curiously flat and detached. "They are due to take their final test tomorrow, though it is unlikely that they will pass. The paperwork is already going through to have them transferred to support detail."

"Why?" Ayliah asked with a frown that echoed her Master's. "They look perfectly fine to me, and I've seen Commander Cody and Captain Rex in the field. They're some of the best, and this squad looks like they'd meet _their_ approval."

The taller bounty hunter, a gray-skinned alien with a wrinkled, bulbous head, sneered. "Bad batchers," he said flatly. "They'll never measure up in a real fight."

Naroko and Ayliah exchanged a look. Bad batcher, they well knew, was a term used by the cloners and the clones themselves to refer to a clone that had something go wrong with them in development. The 'defect' could be subtle, manifesting as a neurological disorder like those that affected information and sensory processing, or it could be a severe physical problem like congenital defects of limbs or major organs. Given how well this group seemed to be performing, it seemed likely that these particular 'bad batchers' fell into the former classification.

Still, they didn't strictly _require_ the best of the best, not for what they were doing. If these clones had a condition that could be managed, surely accommodations could be reached if they were otherwise satisfactory.

"Bad batchers or no, they've been performing extremely well in all their tests," the other bounty hunter put in as Ayliah turned back to peer out the window. He was another alien, with aqua green skin, a Y-shaped skull, and intensely violet eyes. "They may yet succeed."

"What, precisely, is their problem?" Naroko asked. She glanced between the two bounty hunters and the Kaminoan who stood with them. Before the latter could reply, she was interrupted by Ayliah's startled exclamation.

"Master, look!"

She joined Ayliah at the window, following where her Padawan was pointing. The exercise was plainly over. The five clones stood triumphant among no less than two dozen, perhaps more, disabled droids and were plainly congratulating each other. Their enthusiasm was palpable to Naroko's senses even at this range, bright and pure. One of the clones had taken off his helmet and was joyfully pounding on the back of their nearest companion.

Naroko started in surprise, staring at that revealed face.

"They're female?" she asked, turning to the others.

The Kaminoan who'd been overseeing the exercise nodded gravely. "An unfortunate flaw," she said, sounding not regretful in the slightest. "A pity. Other than the defect of their gender they are fine specimens-"

" _Defect?_ "

Naroko Chiston had something of a temper, though she rarely actually displayed it. Now she did, her dark eyes flashing dangerously as she stalked over to the computer terminal. The green-skinned bounty hunter jumped back, stammering apologies. How _dare_ they insinuate that these clones were flawed simply because they had developed as biologically female instead of male? "Show me their records," she ordered over both the bounty hunter and Ayliah's own outraged protests.

The Kaminoan stared at her. "They are defective," she repeated, even as she brought up the requested files. "The contract with the Republic specified the clones of a male subject. There was an error in their development."

" _Female_ does not mean _defective_ ," Ayliah snarled. Naroko was already scanning through the records. Distaff Squad- and surely she should have realized the group's so-called _abnormality_ with a squad name like that- was nearly finished with their training, lacking only completion of the final combat test before their graduation. They were, as the Kaminoan had said, fine specimens. Their times in the exercises were extremely competitive, their academic marks equally high. Perhaps they might never be singled out for ARC trooper training- though Naroko thought that they might just achieve that status given a chance- but they were by no means so incompetent as to rate transfer to some menial position. And to be relegated to such a position because the contract specified male clones-!

She took a few deep breaths, seizing her temper and getting a firm grip on it, keeping her outrage at the injustice she was seeing before her under control. As it so happened, she could do something about this absurdity.

She turned to Taun We, looking the willowy alien dead in the eye. "I'll take them," she said firmly.

Taun We tilted her head slightly on her long neck, giving her a puzzled look. "Surely you would prefer to look at others-" she began.

"I would _not_ prefer to look at other squads," she retorted. "I will take Distaff Squad, regardless of whether they pass their final examination- which I highly doubt they will fail to do."

The two Kaminoans shared a long, wordless look she couldn't even begin to interpret. Then Taun We inclined her head slightly. "If you insist-"

"I do."

"-Then we will arrange for the assignment."

The Jedi raised her chin, not cowed by their obvious disapproval or the grumbling of the grey-skinned bounty hunter behind her. "I wish to speak with them, please."

 _I'm going to tell them why I'm taking them, and warn them that assignment to me won't net them much in the way of seeing combat_ , she thought. _And make it clear to them that I think they're capable of being on the front lines. If they want more action, I'll arrange a transfer to a front-line Jedi myself once we're away from here and just adopt frontliners too injured to go back to heavy fighting. But I damn well won't leave them to be shoved off in a corner just because they're girls._

They were brought down to the training hall by the green-skinned bounty hunter. The five Distaffs immediately snapped to attention as they approached. Though they faced straight ahead, their eyes followed the pair of Jedi. Naroko sensed apprehension off of them, and a cautious excitement.

"Distaff Squad," the bounty hunter said. "These are Jedi General-" he paused there, glancing at Naroko.

"Naroko Chiston, and my Padawan, Commander Ayliah," Naroko replied. She looked along the line of swarthy faces, taking in the details. They _looked_ like the male clones, with the only obvious differences being a slight softness in their features, narrower jaws and fuller lips than those of their brothers. Otherwise the faces were the same- same broad nose and strong chins, dark eyes in the precise same shape, dark hair cut in the same short, military style. They even wore the same armor with only minimal modification to accommodate shoulders that were narrower and hips that were broader than their brothers. With their helmets on, they would be practically impossible to differentiate them from any of the other clones.

It just made the decision to relegate five perfectly good clones to makework all the more exasperating.

She nodded to the one whose shoulder armor bore the markings that indicated she was in charge of the squad. "What is your name please, Cadet?"

The clone hesitated just a moment before beginning, "CT-3-"

"No, your name, please," Naroko interrupted. From the short amount of time she'd been able to spend attached to the 501st in the last couple of months, and from treating injured troopers, she'd learned how highly they valued having individual names and using them instead of their designation numbers. "Do you have one yet?"

"Uh- Jayna, sir," she said. She relaxed a hair when Naroko nodded and asked the other cadets their names. One by one they chimed in- Ace, Mercy, Tinker, and Bullseye. Though their voices were definitely feminine, they were fairly deep, and they spoke with same slightly drawling accent the other clones did.

Naroko looked them over and offered them a wry little smile. "I'm told you've been designated as bad batchers," she said. "And for no reason other than your sex. I think that's a ridiculous reason to be called that and shuffled off to some backwater rock of a post. I've seen your training records. You're good."

This earned her startled, pleased looks and a grin from a couple of them- Tinker and Bullseye, she thought. Tinker nudged the sister next to her and gave her a triumphant look before Jayna signaled for them to fall back in line.

"I'll be up front with you," she continued. "You won't see a great deal of combat with me. My Padawan and I are healers. If you'd rather come with me now and be transferred to the command of a Jedi who will see a lot of fighting later, I'll arrange it. But you deserve a chance to prove what you can do, and I am more than willing to see that you get it."

She watched them think it over. They looked at one another, with expressive eyes and mouths saying all the things they weren't saying out loud.

"Don't see anything wrong with serving with a couple of healers," one of them- Naroko was fairly certain it was Mercy, who had her hair cut slightly longer than the others- said. As cadets, they didn't have quite so many ways of physically distinguishing themselves from their siblings as graduated clone troopers did. Given her name, though, Naroko guessed that she was the one the records had noted as having extensive medic training.

"You're certain?" she asked. "I don't want you thinking I'm taking you out of pity. I think you can do the job, and I want to be sure you get a chance to prove you can."

That eased some of the uncertainty she saw on Jayna's face. The squad leader relaxed, and her sisters followed suit. "We appreciate it, sir," she said. "And we won't fail you. Serving under a healer is still serving with a Jedi. You take us on and we'll give you as good of service as any of the boys'd give you."

"You won't regret this!" Tinker chimed in.

Ayliah grinned broadly. "I'm sure we won't," she said. "You just focus on passing your test tomorrow. Though I bet even if you don't-"

"Oh, we'll pass!" Bullseye interrupted, making both Jedi laugh warmly.

"Either way, you'll be assigned to us," Naroko finished. "And what's more, we'll pass word along to other Jedi. Maybe there are other Jedi not on the front lines who could take on clones considered... borderline cases."

Jayna glanced down, turning her helmet around in her gloved hands. "I know there's a few bad batchers who aren't gonna make it on the front," she said. "Some who can't process things well, that sort of thing. If you could help 'em, sir, I know they'd be a lot happier serving rather than being shunted over to Maintenance like old 99 was."

She smiled softly at her. "I'll have a word with Shaak Ti," she promised. "We'll see what can be done."

"Then we'll be glad to serve under you, sir," Jayna said. She and her sisters saluted, neat and crisp as you could ask. With a brisk nod, Naroko dismissed them, smiling at the squad's excited chatter as they departed.

"That was very kind of you."

She turned to meet the bounty hunter's violet gaze. "There's no reason to label them as bad batchers just because they're female," she said. "Their records are very good, and indicate they're just as good as any of the male clones."

He shrugged, spreading his hands apologetically. "That is very much what I said," he replied. "I didn't think they should be dismissed as inferior, but I was overruled. Thank you for taking them. They're good soldiers, and they'll do well by you."

"So long as we can do as well by them."

Beside her, Ayliah snickered. "It'll be nice having five extra sets of hands to help me keep you out of trouble, Master," she said as the bounty hunter excused himself.

She gave her Padawan a mockingly disdainful look. "Are you saying I am inclined to get into trouble, Padawan?" she asked.

"Only a little. And by little I mean all the time."

"You know, when I was a Padawan, I was _respectful_ towards my Master." Her eyes danced with quiet mirth. Ayliah just sighed and raised a brow at her as she tucked her lekku back over her shoulder.

"I think Master Rinar would have something different to say on the subject."

"Then you can ask her when we get back to Coruscant, dear one."

"Master Rinar's on Selonia!"

"And?"

Naroko smiled and wrapped an arm around Ayliah's shoulder in a hug. Her apprentice leaned into the embrace, slipping her arm around her in return. For a moment they stood there, sharing physical comfort and quiet exchanges of projected affection. Then they drew apart, keenly aware that any such contact in public would have to be brief. Still, that had never stopped Naroko from freely giving out hugs to the apprentice she loved like a daughter, or anyone else she was close with.

They found Shaak Ti later that afternoon and spoke with her on the matter of the bad batchers. The Jedi Master listened quietly and promised to re-examine any clones given that particular label to ensure there were no others like the Distaffs, but promised little else. Flawed clones, and clones who failed to meet performance specifications, were not going to be sent out to the field if they simply couldn't make the cut. She did agree to look into Naroko's suggestion of finding them alternate positions perhaps more suited to them, which was _something_ , she supposed.

Still, the entire business irritated her, and beyond what she'd already done and what she was going to do, there wasn't much she could really accomplish at the moment.

When they left Kamino, it was with a full squad of five excited clones troopers in tow. They might be going to a generally light duty detail with a healer, but it was still _their_ detail, with their very own Jedi General. It didn't seem to matter that Naroko's military rank was mostly ceremonial. Naroko listened to their chatter with amused interest. She had gotten the impression from Obi-Wan's troopers that the clones considered directly serving with a Jedi to be one of the most prestigious- and important- assignments they could have. Certainly Cody and Rex and their troopers followed Obi-Wan and Anakin around like loyal guard canids, to the point of actively trying to take care of them.

The first time Naroko had looked up from her datapad to find a cup of tea at her elbow that she distinctly did not remember preparing, she realized she must have picked a squad with similar tendencies. At least she and Ayliah were better able to tell the clones apart, now that they had graduated and were allowed to individualize their appearances. Three of them- Bullseye, Tinker, and Mercy- immediately announced they were going to grow their hair out, while Jayna simply decided to shave what little hair she had off entirely. Both Jedi quietly encouraged the decisions, and listened with interest as their new companions discussed designs for identifying tattoos. Tattoos had become something of a fad among the clone troopers, as each one tried to figure out some way to make himself stand out from among hundreds of thousands of identical brothers.

When Ace floated the idea of getting the circular winged lightsaber crest of the Jedi Order tattooed on her cheek, Naroko only smiled.

 


End file.
